Picture This
by omgitskee
Summary: Quartie RomCom AU. Quinn Fabray is a professional event planner in Los Angeles, California. When her best friend sends her a picture of a boy she'd wanted to set Quinn up with while away in Ohio, Quinn uses it as a face for her imaginary boyfriend, which she uses to ward off her prying ex. But when the boy, Artie Abrams, shows up in LA, Quinn finds herself in a bit of trouble.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Hello, darlings! It's good to see you all again. This is a RomCom AU, which my mother recently informed me is loosely based off of Picture Perfect, a movie starring Jennifer Anniston, that I have never seen. =P I hope you all like it! I'm excited to get going, but I must warn you, there will be cliches. Consider yourself warned. **

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"You won't believe the lineup I've got, Mercedes." Quinn Fabray began as her high heels clicked on the Los Angeles sidewalk beneath her. "All of a sudden, an influx of calls came in, and back-to-back, I have a wedding, a sweet sixteen, and two birthday parties all within the next few months. Plus, I've got Crave's anniversary bash coming up, too. It must be since summer is coming up, everyone's in the partying mood."

Her friend seemed less than amused, since she hadn't gotten a word in with Quinn since they began talking. "Wow, you're a busy girl. But you know you gotta pay off that swanky new apartment of yours, so in the bold words of Britney Spears, you better work, bitch."

Quinn laughed at Mercedes' joke before sandwiching her phone between her ear and her shoulder as she walked into the workplace of her other best friend. She was delivering Santana Lopez's lunch, like she did every Wednesday, and was also going there to meet up with the Crave magazine executives to talk about the party she was planning for them.

"Now, girl, when are you going to let me hook you up with that cute guy I found for you here in Lima?"

Mercedes Jones, Quinn's best friend, had gone to visit family in Lima, Ohio, and had stayed for a month. Two days into her trip, she'd texted Quinn about a boy she met at the movie theatre who she thought would be absolutely perfect for Quinn. She acted flattered, but really- Did she even have time to date right now? She'd just moved into her new apartment, was barely unpacked, and just booked four events to plan in the next three months. Men were not on the agenda. Not right now.

"When pigs wearing blue garters and wedding veils _fly_, Mercedes. I'm sure Archie is a nice guy, but not right now. Especially long distance."

She could almost hear Mercedes' eyes rolling. "It's Artie, darling. And it wouldn't be long distance for long, since he's actually planning to move to LA himself."

Quinn pressed the door of Santana's workplace closed with her rear-end, and presented the girl, standing by the door, with her orange chicken and chow mein. "Well whoop-dee-doo for him. I hope he likes it out here. Now, I have to go, I'm kinda busy , alright?"

Mercedes' sigh was loud and dramatic. "Bye. I'll be texting you later."

"Bye." Quinn cooed, before finally letting the girl go via the END button. She rolled her eyes to Santana. "That woman is always trying to set me up with someone."

Santana Lopez rolled her eyes back, and bumped hips with her friend. "Well, why wouldn't she? You're hot shit." Quinn tried to think of how to put it- She was too busy, she didn't have the time, she didn't need a guy…There were so many ways to put it.

"That doesn't matter when I'm juggling five events to plan." Quinn sighed. "I mean, I'd like a guy to wake up to every morning just as much as any other straight girl or gay guy in LA. But, you know, I love what I do. And if that means I have to put off dating for a while, then so be it. I'm content. I've got a gorgeous apartment, a job that keeps me busy, and friends who keep me on my toes. What more could a girl ask for?" She spoke with a sarcastic tone, but was being completely serious.

"Dick." was all that Santana said in response. She tended to make a lot of jokes about Quinn's nonexistent sex life, and since she was a lesbian, it made it even more ironic. "Now, speaking of dicks, Puckerman at twelve o'clock."

Before Quinn could turn to avoid her ex-boyfriend who ended up cheating on her with one Rachel Berry, the Entertainment columnist over at Crave, Santana pushed her toward him and walked away. She couldn't stand the guy. He broke her heart, after all. And though he kept hinting at getting back together, Quinn had no intentions of doing so. The only reason she even spoke to the man was because their insulting badinage was much too fun to stop.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't Quinn Fabray. How's the party coming along? I assume my invite is in the mail?"

Quinn gave a sigh. "I'm not sure mopping the floors of the building is enough of a reason for an invite." She blatantly gave him an up-and-down scan of his janitor's attire- blue button-down shirt with nametag in the corner, and a pair of blue jeans and working boots.

"I'm a _maintenance manager_." He corrected.

"Glorified janitor."

"I make more than you do."

She couldn't respond to that since, well, he was right. Instead, she shook her head slowly. "When are you going to leave me alone?"

"Not til I find out whether you have any new tattoos that I can't see. It's been two years, after all. I've changed, so I don't doubt that you have." Puck smirked. There was a part of her that found that undeniably sexy, but it was completely overpowered by the part of her that wanted to smack the smug look off of his face.

She glared, "You're a pig."

"And you're a frigid bitch." Puck retorted. Before Quinn could chew him out, he quickly added, "But that's what I like about you. And I mean, it's not like you've found some new boyfriend to torture."

"Yeah, well, I do. I have one of those- a boyfriend. So I guess you're out of luck." Her rambling couldn't have possibly been fooling him, but he did seem to be intimidated by this (fake) knowledge of her (imaginary) new boyfriend. Quinn decided it was time to leave him to his Mr. Clean duties before she got herself in deeper. "Well, it's been sufficiently awkward seeing you again, Puck. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a meeting to go to." She practically hissed that statement before turning on her heel and meeting Santana. She was sitting in her cubicle, talking to Sam Evans, Mercedes' boyfriend and Quinn's long-time friend. He was the graphic designer of the magazine.

"This magazine is turning fifty in a few weeks." Santana was sharing, "When Oprah turned fifty, she had the most-watched episode of her show by far. I want people to be talking about this bash for so freakin' long, their grandkids will know what kind of champagne was served." She noticed Quinn walking over to them and gave a sly smile. "Ah, just the girl I was looking for."

Quinn crossed her arms over her chest when she slowed to a stop. "That wasn't funny. You know I can't stand him."

"Yeah, but the sexual tension is still there. I was just giving your little candy ass the push you needed. It's about time you got some because I don't know how much longer I can deal with your uptight little self anymore. That is not something I want to have to write in the article I'm putting about you in Crave."

Before Quinn could say anything, she was instantly stopped by those words. "An…article? About me?" she smiled. Santana gave a shrug.

"Badass working woman in LA, making a name for herself in the event planning industry? Seems pretty article-worthy to me, _chica._"

She could've dropped her coffee on the Crave building's clean, gray carpet. "O-oh my God, Santana…That's huge! Thank you so much." She knelt and gave her friend a tight hug.

"Yeah, don't get all mushy on me though. I need to draw that fire inside of you as inspiration."

Quinn would have stayed and thanked Santana a thousand times over, but the clock was counting down the seconds to the time they'd have to meet in the meeting hall, where Quinn would pitch her ideas for their anniversary party.

After the meeting, writers, editors, and managers of Crave magazine were giving Quinn handshakes and pats on the back, as they were so excited for their party after hearing what Quinn had planned. Santana had left to schmooze her bosses, which left Quinn and Sam. He helped Quinn pack up her easel and poster board silently before actually speaking.

"This party means a lot to her…Santana, I mean. She's really trying to make it in this business, and she referred you as the planner. This could get her in good with the Big Kahunas." His full lips turned up into a smirk, which Quinn met with her own.

"I know. I only hope I can help her out in that way." She sighed. This was her biggest job to date- it was going to be publicized; celebrities were going to be there. It was huge. If it didn't go right, it wouldn't only ruin her, but also Santana's position, and Crave as a magazine. She tried not to let it show, but that idea terrified her inside. "Mercedes is coming home in a few days."

Quinn sensed Sam's excitement. "I know! I missed her way too much. Has she talked to you about Artie, yet?"

She nearly collapsed then and there. What was everyone's sick obsession with her love life? "Yes! She won't _stop _talking about Artie. I don't want to date right now, simple as that. I may be twenty-six, my days may be numbered, I may die a woman who hadn't had a legitimate healthy relationship since high school. But guess what? I don't care."

She looked to Sam to find him standing farther than he was standing before. She had actually made the guy recoil in fear.

"Don't kill me, but…I think you care."

"Don't tempt me, because…I think you're _wrong_."

Sam gave a small, uncomfortable laugh before checking his watch. "Oh, wouldja look at that. I have…things…to do. " he chuckled, before comically running out of the room. Quinn rolled her eyes at her friend, who she was convinced was actually a cartoon character in disguise.

She rummaged through her tote bag to find her wallet- She was starved, and there was a vending machine right outside of the meeting hall. She made her way out of the door, and just when she was about to put her dollar in, her phone vibrated. Quinn took it out to find that Mercedes had texted her- "Media content in this message", it said. She opened the message, to find a picture of a guy with glasses, brown hair, and royal blue eyes. He looked as though the camera had taken him by surprise, as he was stuffing a Hostess cupcake into his mouth. Must have been Artie. She admitted, he was really, really cute. Not the kind of guy she usually went for, but Mercedes _was_ always telling her it was time for a change. What was she doing? She was _considering _this. She rolled her eyes, and was about to put the phone away, before hearing a voice come up behind her.

"Is that him?" it asked. Quinn jumped, to find Noah Puckerman behind her, looking over her shoulder at the picture.

"Is that who?" she asked, not even hiding her irritation.

"The new boyfriend."

She couldn't believe he was still on that. She couldn't believe that that was the only thing that kept him off her back. But she couldn't give him the satisfaction. Quinn knew there was a part of her that still loved this guy, but she had to suppress it if she wanted to keep her heart intact. She couldn't let herself succumb to her insecurities. She had to get him away from her for good.

"Yep. Isn't he just positively perfect?"

Quinn watched as Puck scoffed, before throwing his rag over his shoulder and sauntering away. "Yeah, if you like geek chic, sure." He said over his shoulder. She let out a long, heaving sigh. Finally, she got him off of her back…Except it was with a lie. But the way he recoiled, the way he looked like he didn't believe her, but knew that she didn't really have much of a reason to lie…It was strangely satisfying. Quinn found herself smirking down at her phone- This guy with royal blue eyes and glasses may have been her way out. A little white lie never hurt anyone…Maybe Artie's picture could be her little white lie. No one had to know. If it kept Puckerman off of her back, then she'd be able to focus on her work instead of warding him off.

_Wow, Mercedes._ Quinn replied. _He's actually really cute. Show me another? _

Over the next few days, every time Puck was in eyeshot, Quinn took the opportunity to show Santana or Sam the pictures she'd acquired of Artie, really talking about how pathetic Mercedes made her look to him, but making it seem as if she was gushing about her positively perfect boyfriend. Every day he got less and less persistent. This was really going to work.

The day Mercedes came home from Ohio, Quinn came to her doorstep, Starbucks in hand, so they could reunite. She rang the doorbell and tapped her pointed nude pumps anxiously. She had so much to tell her- how great the party was coming along, how she finally washed Puck out of her hair for good…

Finally, the girl came to the door and gave an excited shriek, which Quinn returned. "I missed you so much!" Mercedes shouted, taking her coffee from Quinn's hands and giving her a hug.

Quinn wrapped her arms around the girl and squeezed. "I missed you too. And I have great news." She began, but Mercedes cut her off.

"So do I. Let me go first."

She leaned her body against the door frame and sipped her latte, smirking at what Mercedes had to say.

Quinn watched as Mercedes turned her head over her shoulder and shouted, "She's here!"

A boy with nicely coiffed brown hair rolled into the room in a wheelchair, his royal blue eyes glimmering from behind his glasses. Quinn felt her eyes widen, and had to make sure she didn't drop her latte on Mercedes' nice tan carpet.

Shit. _Shit._ _**Shit.**_

"Quinn, Artie, Artie, Quinn." Mercedes smiled.

"Uh-um…what…is he doing…_here_?" Quinn asked, trying not to sound completely mortified.

Mercedes seemed taken aback by her shocked attitude. "_I told you_ he was planning to move here, so I brought him back with me. He's staying with me and Sam until he makes up his mind." Then, lowering her tone, "I thought you liked him. That's how you made it seem in the texts."

She didn't want to say that she lied to her best friend. She didn't want to say that she virtually lead a guy on. She didn't want to say that she used a guy she didn't even know to make another guy jealous. Because, now that he was real and tangible, Quinn realized just how _terrible _she was.

"I-um…" she looked over Mercedes' shoulder and met Artie's gaze. He smiled, and she smiled back, halfheartedly. "…I just didn't expect him to be meeting me in your living room, is all. Can we…talk about him- about _this_ later? I have…" Quinn glanced at an imaginary watch before backing up out of Mercedes' doorway and nearly falling over the railing. "…work. Bye." She all but ran down the stairs, and into her car, mentally cursing at herself all the way there. Maybe this wouldn't affect her at all. She tried to tell herself that LA was a big town, and that neither of them could possibly find out that she'd been using Artie as her imaginary boyfriend. But who was she kidding? What had she gotten herself into?


	2. Chapter 2

**This one's going to be a little short, and a little slow, but I promise it'll definitely pick up next chapter! Just you wait.**

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Quinn treaded lightly on what she was about to say. There were many ways this could go wrong, and she wanted to make sure that Mercedes understood why she'd done what she did. A pink fingernail rimmed her glass slowly, while Quinn looked guiltily around the coffee shop and waited for Mercedes to join her at the table. Finally, when the woman walked over, heels clicking and latte steaming, Quinn couldn't stop her mouth from blurting the words,

"Puck thinks Artie is my boyfriend."

Mercedes stopped in her tracks, her expression ranging from excited to mortified to confused, before she finally took a seat across from her best friend. "Who, what, when, where, why, and _how_?" she demanded. Quinn could tell that the emotion the girl had settled on was _fury_.

"Who and When? While you were away, Puck has been getting on my case about getting back together. What? Well, you kept talking to me about Artie when I was not looking to date anyone. Where? At the magazine. I'm pretty sure he only began mopping their floors because I'm planning their party. How? I lied and told him I had a boyfriend, and then you sent me that first picture of Artie, and he asked if that was him. I agreed. And then I kind of got carried away. Why? Because I'm an idiot." Quinn remained nonchalant about the ordeal, though she was freaking out on the inside. There was a guy in Mercedes' apartment right that moment who seemed like a great person, and she took advantage of him without even knowing him.

"You are in some deep shit, girl." Mercedes rolled her eyes and pressed her mug against her lips. She knew when Quinn was freaking out, even if she didn't show it. "How could you have done this? You totally made me believe you wanted to be with him."

"I know." Quinn gave a sigh and sipped her own drink. "And I'm sorry. How can I make it up to you?"

The sly smirk on Mercedes' face elicited a squint of confusion from Quinn's. "Well, first off, I really want you to get to know this person that you screwed over royally."

Quinn was quick to shout, "No!" before Mercedes even finished. Ignoring the disapproving glances from hipsters on their laptops and sixteen-year-olds on dates, she lowered her tone. "Look, I don't want to lead him on any further."

"I'm not saying to date him, I'm just saying…get to know him, tell him your situation, maybe he'll throw you a bone and not hate you. I mean, he is my new close friend, he's getting pretty close to Sam as well, and you're my best friend. I don't want things to be awkward since_ you_ hyped him up only to let him down."

Sucking her teeth and rolling her eyes, Quinn reluctantly agreed. Mercedes was right. It was only fair to smooth out the wrinkles with Artie before totally ruling him out as a potential friend. "Fine." She muttered. "But, just to be clear, you're never going to let me live this down, are you?"

"Yeah, probably not." Mercedes smirked. Quinn shook her head at the girl with a smirk on her face.

"Damn, I knew being my best friend would rub off on you somehow."

That next day, Quinn walked into that same coffee shop, nearly blown in by the biggest windstorm in California in years. Her pink skirt billowed around her as she tried to pry the door open against the currents. Finally, she was able to get inside with messy hair, a flustered expression, and leaves in places no girl should have leaves. But she figured it'd be for the best- Artie didn't need to see her as "attractive".

She zeroed in on him sitting at a table a few down from the one she'd shared with Mercedes the day before, and gave him a small wave before going to the counter and ordering her coffee. As she added the perks- creamer, sugar, all that good stuff- Quinn couldn't help but look at him from the corner of her eye. Artie was wearing a polo shirt and jeans, with suspenders and a pair of fingerless gloves for protection against his wheelchair. He looked nice, and it made her even more uncomfortable than before. She didn't look attractive, thanks to the wind, but sure, he had every right to when she was trying to make this easy on herself. Quinn made her way over to Artie and sat across from him, unable to meet his blue eyes.

"Well hello, Mizz Fabray." He said, pink lips turning up into a smirk. "I've heard many great things about you."

"Oh?" was all Quinn could say.

"Yeah. Mercedes says that her best friend is driven, smart, professional, hilarious, and beautiful."

Her eyes scanned the table as she shook her head, chuckling. "Mercedes said all of that?" she inquired.

"Well…I added that last one." He retorted.

Quinn sucked in a breath- No, she could not succumb to his charm. Not now, not…ever. "Look, Artie, I'm sure Mercedes mentioned that even though I lead you on, I'm not really looking to be with-"

"I know, I know, I know…" Artie said, holding his hands up in surrender. "But I'd hate to let that get in between you and The Artie Abrams Experience." He locked his hands behind his head and leaned back in his chair. "Everyone should experience alla' this at least once in their lives."

She couldn't hold back a hearty laugh, but decided to shut herself up with a sip of her coffee. It was too hot, but she didn't really care. "Artie…" Quinn began again, "…I've been using you."

"You…hardly even know me." His brow furrowed, and Quinn breathed a quick breath before moving in to tell him.

But then, her ear was taken by the jingling of the shop door bells, just as one Noah Puckerman walked in. She didn't know what to do- hide? Run to the bathroom? Those options were out of the question once Puck's green eyes settled on her and raised an eyebrow. As if by reflex, Quinn took Artie's hand across the table and looked into his eyes, all the while looking at Puck out of her peripherals. The boy's face across from her grew more and more confused. Quinn looked at Puck, who ordered his coffee black, and was then quickly moving toward them. Quinn cursed under her breath.

"Hmmm. So this is the famous boyfriend, eh?" he asked.

"Well, actually, we just m-" But before Artie could ruin absolutely everything, Quinn tightened her grip on his hand to the point where he was red in the fingertips. The guy got the hint and, with a strangled expression, he said through his teeth, "…Yep. Yep. Boyfriend. Uh-huh."

Quinn let go of his hand. "What about you, Puck? Are you here with any girls? Any Rachels?" She cocked her head to show her bitterness about their past, to which Puck rolled his eyes.

"Nope. Just me. Gearing up for a hard day of work. God knows I'll need it." She watched as he gulped his coffee and winced at the temperature, just as she had. "Well I'll see you guys around. Nice to meet you, man, outside of your pictures and stuff." He strode out, albeit passive-aggressively, and finally, Quinn could relax. But not for long.

Artie looked at her, and finally Quinn was able to look him in the disappointed eyes. He shook his head, and unlocked his wheels before rolling out as quickly as he could. Quinn debated what to do. It would be awful of her not to run after him, but was she really trying to be not-awful _now_? Quinn grit her teeth and followed Artie out of the door and onto the sidewalk, on the windiest day in LA history.

"I tried to warn you." She shouted after him, using something to appropriate her actions. Quinn's hair whipped around her face as her heels clicked on the pavement, and she could see Artie through her wisps of hair. He refused to turn around, and simply shouted back.

"About how you took advantage of me? You're lucky that guy is a jerk, or I'd have totally ratted your ass out."

Quinn ran a hand through her hair. "And for that I owe you big-time, okay? I'm just not looking to be with anyone right now, especially not Noah Puckerman. And I don't exactly have the best past with him, so I needed something strong to keep him away, alright? I'm sorry."

"Not to be cliché, but you're sorry you got caught." Artie stopped and turned to her. "Mercedes hyped you up to be this goddess, and you lead me on for days. She kept telling me that you were calling me cute and asking for pictures- I should've figured that something was weird when you refused to take my number. I should have figured when someone as gorgeous and successful as you was actually showing interest in…me."

"I'm an awful person." Was all Quinn could say to that. It had never dawned on her that maybe he was really getting his hopes up about her, or that girls didn't normally like him as he'd said.

Artie clenched his jaw, backed his wheels up again, and wheeled away to his car. Quinn gulped, astonished by her own emotions toward this. She had a job to take care of. She had a million projects to get started on. She had to unpack her new apartment. She didn't have time to break hearts and feel guilty about doing it, yet that was exactly what she was doing.


	3. Chapter 3

No amount of concealer could cover up the bags underneath Quinn's eyes. The disgusting purple marks just reminded her of the fact that she hadn't gotten any sleep the night before. As soon as she got home from her…disastrous coffee date with Artie, Quinn had planned to do so much- put together color swatches for party planning at the magazine, unpack some of her belongings, and, you know, not care about what had happened. But all she could do was gnaw on her nails and pace back and forth on her living room floor, and kind of sort of put color swatches on a board until two in the morning. That guy- that stupid guy that she knew for what, an accumulated two hours? He'd taken over her brain, and Quinn couldn't think straight. She hated the fact that she regretted hurting him so much, but knew that if she didn't regret it, that would say much worse things about her than the fact that she even hurt him in the first place.

Quinn flipped the visor mirror of her car back up and gathered her belongings before hopping out of the Volkswagen Beetle and making her way into the magazine's headquarters once more. From the trunk she grabbed her color board, one of those Styrofoam ones that stood up when you presented with them, and walked down the sidewalk. Quinn had spent so much time trying to not appear so tired preparing for this 7:00 am meeting that she'd forgotten to check the weather. The windstorm continued, gusting her hair out of place, and her color board out of her hands just as she'd gotten to the front door.

She sucked in a frustrated breath- karma. This was all karma for being a terrible person, wasn't it? Quinn turned to run after it, but was met by a pair of wheels.

"It hit me in the face." Was all Artie said before handing the board back to her.

"Thank you…so much." Quinn breathed, unsure of how to handle this. "Look…about last night…" she began, but Artie just raised an eyebrow and wheeled past her to the front door. She could nearly feel the chill he emitted in the air. Instead of going inside, Artie just sat there, eyes wandering, looking terribly bored. Quinn followed his gaze before realizing that he expected her to open the door for him. As soon as she had the realization, Quinn hopped to it and took ahold of the front door, allowing Artie to roll himself in. She couldn't help but smirk- If he was really that mad at her, he wouldn't have done that. He was pushing her, to see how far she'd go to prove her remorse. He was crafty. But the true question was…what was he doing at Crave headquarters to begin with?

She was about to walk herself in when she caught out of the corner of her eye, Mercedes, bounding down the sidewalk in that direction.

"Hey! What are you doing here?" Quinn beamed, wind gusting at her powder blue dress. Mercedes perched her sunglasses atop her head.

"I've got an interview. Santana scored me an article in the Entertainment section- it's an expose on up-and-coming artists. I'm stoked. They'll be asking me about my album."

Quinn answered with a big smile and a hug, but left the air silent. She wanted to discuss Artie, but didn't want to bring it up.

She could tell that Mercedes caught her drift. "Artie told me about what happened last night…" she began, "He was really pissed, but I think you'd be glad to know that I can tell that he already forgives you. Not that you deserve it, but…I think we both know why he asked to come with me today. He just wanted to see your face."

Quinn scowled.

"…Yep, that's it. That's the face."

He was a sadistic little guy, feeding off of her guilt. With a scoff, Quinn opened the door for her and her friend. "I don't really care, believe me- I was just worried about him, is all." She shrugged, turning her body so her board would fit through the door frame. "I didn't mean to break his little heart, but sometimes a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do." She wouldn't tell the girl that she spent all night pondering her choices. She _definitely_ wouldn't tell her that she lost sleep over the ordeal.

Mercedes' loud laugh told Quinn that she knew she was bullshitting her, and that she obviously didn't _need _to tell her. Mercedes knew. Mercedes always knew.

As soon as they entered the building, her friend was whisked away into an interview room, and Quinn had approximately seven minutes before her meeting, so she took a seat in the waiting area, next to Artie's chair, to see if she could test the waters with him. He was reading a magazine when she sat down, and she saw him clench his jaw before turning to her.

"You humiliated me." he said. Quinn was expecting a joke, a thing to make her feel secure in the idea that he didn't hate her anymore, but…that was all real. All too real. "You made me feel like a fool my first week in LA. And all because you were too chicken to stand up to your ex. If you're not strong enough to resist the guy's charm, then maybe you two _should _be together."

Quinn's jaw dropped. No, not what she expected at all. "It's more complicated than you think. You've known me for three days. Don't act like you know anything about me and who I can and cannot 'resist'." She grew angrier with every word, pissed beyond belief at the guy who thought he knew her better than she knew herself. But…she supposed he was right. Quinn was a strong woman, yes, but she and Puck had this undeniable chemistry that she knew was bound to draw her back into that toxic relationship in a heartbeat. The bad about him outweighed the good profusely, but Quinn found herself really attached to the good- The way his cologne smelled, his crooked smile, his eyes…Often, she lied awake at night rethinking their relationship, and what went wrong. She had planned her very first Hollywood party, and Puck was the pool boy of the hotel. They hit it off right away, and while he hated everyone, Quinn found a certain sort of pride in the idea that he liked her above all of that. She completely ignored her mother's only advice about love to her- "Judge him not only on how he treats you, but on how he treats other people." And to be honest, to everyone who wasn't Quinn or Santana, Puck was a huge dick. And when he cheated on her with Rachel, she couldn't believe that she actually wasn't as important to him as she'd thought.

But something about their relationship was nice and familiar. He was the first and only guy she'd been with at the start of her career, and it held good memories. And Quinn often hated herself for looking back on those memories so fondly.

"I actually think you're kind of a nutcase, so…" Artie side-eyed her, and began to turn his attention back to his magazine, but something in her caught his eye, and he hesitantly turned back to meet her gaze. "You are. That wasn't an exaggeration. But…I just want to know…You seem so against finding love at all. Why is that?" His gaze softened, and Quinn bit back her words. She wasn't going to tell a guy who was virtually a stranger that she'd gone down that road before, and hated what it made her become. She was possessive, way too passionate, way too involved. Surely, a relationship now would screw her entire career over.

She slid her tongue across her bottom lip and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "If I want to be taken seriously as a professional woman in this town," Quinn began, ",I can't do it attached to the hip of a man. I'm not an appendage."

"It sounds to me like you've just been with the kind of guys who make you into an appendage." Artie offered her a small shrug. Quinn was about to interject, but the ringer of Artie's phone went off. He searched his khakis for his phone before finally pulling it out and wheeling into a quieter corner of the room.

And so then, Quinn was alone with four minutes to spare. She pondered what Artie had said about her being a nutcase- It should have offended her, but it surprisingly wasn't the first time. Santana called her nuts on a daily basis. Speak of the devil, Quinn saw the girl out of the corner of her eye, sauntering over, red lips moving animatedly as she spoke to Noah Puckerman.

Quinn tried all she could to avert her eyes, but somehow the two found her anyhow.

"Sitting in the guest section, Fabray? Please. You're not that special." Santana snarked. Quinn rolled her eyes with a smile.

"I was talking to someone," she defended.

"Her boyfriend." Puck chimed in, tilting his mohawked head at Artie, who was seemingly having a pretty heated phone discussion in the corner. Quinn didn't _want _to be curious, but she wondered who he was talking to. But then she realized that Puck had just brought up the debacle, and that it was probably time to set this straight. Before she could, Puck took the seat next to hers and put his arm around her shoulders, which sent a disgusted chill down Quinn's spine. Ugh. She really felt guilty if she was going to risk having to deal with his come-ons again. "Looked a lot like an argument. Cause I know Q when she's mad, believe me. Trouble in paradise?" he raised an eyebrow.

Santana just stood next to him, brows furrowed, confused by the entire conversation. Quinn sucked in a breath and turned to look Puck in the eye. "Look, Puck…" she began.

"Lovers' quarrel? Full-fledged fight? Ooh, don't tell me, Q. Did he dump your ass?"

Quinn clenched her teeth, fighting with herself against the familiar smell of his cologne. She had loved that smell before, and still loved it, but it brought back too many memories. "Look, Puck…" she said again, with more force, but couldn't find the words to continue.

"Oh, he did?" Puck scoffed, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you two made it up to make me jealous." She could tell he didn't really believe his words, and he was genuinely just being self-absorbed, but the fact that he said it at all made Quinn's heart pound. How pathetic was this going to make her look? He would be so freaking amused because he knew that he had her by the ear even when she hated him. But, like it or not, Quinn had to tell him. Time to come clean.

"Well, actually…"

"_Actually_, babe," said Artie's voice from a few feet away. He'd rolled out of the corner and was heading toward them. ",I was being an ass and I'm sorry." Once he got to them, he took Quinn's hand in his and kissed the back of it. This only sent her heart beating even faster, wondering what the hell was going on. She couldn't let him do this- She couldn't let this kid save her ass after she totally kicked him in his the day prior.

"No, Artie, I've got this." She shook her head, and looked him in the eye, saying a sort of 'thanks but no thanks'.

"And I've got _you_. And, if you give me another chance, I promise I'll never be that terrible again." His expression was forceful now. His blue eyes peered into hers, indicating that he had something to tell her. Quinn looked around at Puck's shocked face, and Santana's intrigued one, and couldn't help but smirk.

She tilted her head and shrugged, putting on the best show she could. "I'm still incredibly angry, but I guess you'll just have to make it up to me."

Artie gave a small smile, and looked around. "Is there anywhere we can talk in private? Er- do you have time?"

Quinn glanced at her watch. _Shit._ Her meeting would be starting in like, one minute, and she had yet to find out why this kid had such a sudden change of heart. Santana's voice chimed in as she looked at a glowing iPhone screen with interest.

"Lucky you, one of the big dogs just texted me, and she'll be running fifteen minutes late. Knock yourselves out- There's a staff break room down the hall."

As Santana and Puck walked away, the Latina turned and gave Quinn a look of utter approval, as well as some obscene hand gestures. Artie nearly bolted down the hall, and Quinn was quick to follow in line. Of course, she had to thank him for saving her ass _again_, but he also had some serious explaining to do.

"Um, wow, change of heart much?" she called behind him once they entered the room. Artie turned to her, with palms touching before him in a bit of a praying stance. He rested his mouth on his thumbs, eyes closed, as he thought carefully of what to say. Quinn crossed her arms, jutted a hip, and couldn't help but figure that this had to be good.

"Okay, I'ma be straight up and honest with you." He began, opening his eyes, "I need you."

Quinn knew he didn't mean it the way it sounded, but decided to play it up. "Wow, Artie, this is so sudden…" she teased.

"Wow, you're slaying me with your humor." He snarked. "I just got off the phone with my mom. Mind you, yes, I'm twenty-five years old, and yes, I can make my own decisions, but that's my mom. And, well, she doesn't particularly like me being so far away, especially if I'm going to be dealing with Hollywood and the pressures of fame and…I mean, well, she has a right to. I'm fine as hell, yo. But anyways, she was on my case about coming here with 'Cedes, and she was actually kind of expecting me to be home today, but I told her that I plan to stay. And, well…she gave me a hella hard time and…and…"

With a raised eyebrow, Quinn clued him to go on.

"And I told her that I have another reason to stay." He put on an expectant expression. Quinn felt that she should know what he meant by this, but didn't, so she raised her eyebrows even further. "…I told her…That I'm in love."

She was catching on, now, but really just wanted to hear him say it out loud.

"With a beautiful woman named Quinn Fabray and I….", this last part came in a mutter, "…kinda sorta used your picture."

Dropped jaw, Quinn threw her head back and her arms in front of her. This was just too priceless. "This is gold. I am loving every moment of this right now." She didn't know if she should have found this so amusing, but her ear-to-ear grin didn't lie. Artie totally berated her for this, and now he was stealing her shtick. "Oh, and I'm the nutcase, right? I guess that makes you…a hypocrite."

Artie rolled his eyes. "I get it, okay? I understand now. Everything makes sense. Happy?"

"Ecstatic." She said, her words dripping sarcasm. "What I'm most excited about, though, is the part where I get to make you feel like crap for a day, make you pace around your living room biting your nails, make you stay up all night, and then make you _open doors for me_."

He cocked a brow. "You stayed up all night?"

"Beyond the point." Quinn redirected the conversation, "So what? What does this all mean is what I'd like to know."

Sucking his teeth – his really nice, white teeth- Artie gave a shrug. "It means that I scratch your back, you scratch mine. Just until my parents leave me alone and your ex does the same."

Quinn weighed her options. The problem was that she'd already decided that what she did was wrong, and now it felt doubly wrong. "I'm not about to be your imaginary girlfriend." She shook her head, crossing her arms once more. "I have somehow managed to maintain my dignity."

"Look. It's a win/win. I get to stay in LA, you get to plan this party around your ex, and we both get to do what we love with no hassle." Artie raised his arms in a 'come on' gesture. "I'm sorry for being so harsh on you last night and this morning. I didn't know how it felt until I was in your shoes."

Quinn looked him in the eye. He really wanted this. When she'd moved to LA, she was working with a BA in Business and $5000 to her name. Her mom would call daily, worried sick, and Quinn hated that she felt like she had to worry. But…look at her now. She was a huge success. And she supposed that Artie could have her same story. After mulling it over, she decided he deserved it. Quinn pursed her lips and eyed him once more, making sure she could trust this boyish guy who was asking the almost-impossible of her.

"And…as I recall, last night you did say you – and I quote – 'owe me big time'." He shrugged. She was softening to him, and Artie could tell. Quinn rolled her eyes once more- She couldn't believe she was about to agree to this.

"What exactly entails being your imaginary girlfriend? You know, before I sign the paperwork." She teased.

Artie gave a soft chuckle. "A few romantic selfies, maybe a Skype call with the parentals or two. And once you and I are both where we need to be, we can stage a breakup, and no one has to know. Well…except Mercedes and Sam." He held out a gloved hand before peering up at Quinn. This was a business deal, she had to tell herself. A really weird business deal. "Deal?"

Quinn sucked in a breath. She held out her hand, which slowly but surely made its way to finally connect with the boy's. Their firm grips fought for dominance of the handshake, and Artie admittedly won, by her standards. "Deal."


End file.
